I was unsure the angle to take on this post.
For those of you who don’t know, today is my workout-iversary. Two years ago, today I committed to two workouts a week, every week. Which I understand that this doesn’t seem like a lot, but it’s important to remember that prior to this is was no workouts a week.
In trying to describe year-two of this self-positioned challenge, I was unsure what to say. I feel as though last year I was quite eloquent, and I didn’t want to go about beating a dead horse.
But I wanted to still say something – even if that thing was a lot briefer.
I am incredibly proud of myself – over the last two years I kept expecting myself to give up, but I haven’t. I have kept this promise to myself. My friends and family poke fun that I have been replaced by an alien who looks a lot like me but has a strange new affinity for exercise. And I think part of this is true, I don’t think I am the same person I was two years ago. Not all of this can be accredited to working out – but some of it most definitely can be.
In light of me achieving this “impossible” task, I want to talk about a misconception I had prior to working out.
I’m a busy person. I like to keep a full, but diligently organised, schedule. I thought that there was no room to fit working out into my schedule. That I couldn’t find a couple hours a week to cram in a quick sweat every now and then.
I started working out immediately after graduating. It was May 2020 and I was unemployed and living with my parents and my mental health was falling apart at the seams. Working out was a last-ditch attempt to fill my time in the endless void of COVID-19. It was easy to find time when time was all I had.
I always assumed that I would quit this project when life got busy. I had attempted workout-kicks before – all of which were unsuccessful. I imagined that with a fulltime job, a social life, a tiny music career, and a list of hobbies, there would be no space for working out. But I would say the opposite.
The focus of my active lifestyle has always been mental health recovery
Since working out I have found more time in my life. The focus of my active lifestyle has always been mental health recovery, not physical changes. And the mental changes I seen are near immeasurable. Last night, my sister took me to a club in a foreign country, it was packed shoulder to shoulder, the music was loud, the drinks were poured, but no panic attack was had. I am 23 years old and that is the first time I have been to a club without a panic attack.
Working out has lessened my anxiety and given me back of the vital real estate in my brain. Space to think, to make more rational decisions, to enjoy time with others. With less panic attacks, and less anxiety-maintenance required, I have more time in my life. Giving 30 to 60 minutes, twice a week to working out has given me hours back every week to be a human being.
This is not a fix-all and I don’t want it to come across as preachy. I don’t live a “that girl” lifestyle full of green juice and ice water. Most of my morning runs are fueled by Oreos and leftover cheesecake. This is simply a pat on the back for myself and an acknowledgement that I was wrong. Working out is something I do have space for.
So, my sister and I just got back from a major hike and my feet are exhausted. So, I think it’s best for me to put my feet up, have a glass of wine, and celebrate two years of fitness. Happy Workout-iversary to me.
From me, with love, to you,
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